


Joys of the Modern World

by sabrina_il (marina)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 5 Times, Children, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Genoa, Germany, Homophobia, Italy, M/M, Marrakech - Freeform, Morocco - Freeform, Munich - Freeform, Pressure to have kids, The one where everyone suddenly expects them to have kids, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, childfree immortals lol, minor inconveniences as a result of receding homophobia, shifting social norms, this is not kids fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/sabrina_il
Summary: 5 times when Nicky and Joe were asked about when they're planning to have kids.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 30
Kudos: 239





	Joys of the Modern World

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this idea was a lot more hilarious when reutii and I were cracking each other up coming up with it one evening. Somehow it turned into... this fic. Look, I just HAD TO GET ALL OF MY FEELINGS OUT OK. 
> 
> Ironically, writing this fic took more time and effort, BY A HUGE MARGIN, than anything I've written before in this fandom. I kind of can't believe it's actually done. A huge thank you to everyone who made it possible: reutii, roga, miarr, exsequar, winekitteh, and everyone on discord who listened to me whine and told me to keep going. And a super huge, special thanks to my Italian, German and Moroccan betas: falena, Bee and Marie.
> 
> The 5 sections of this fic happen in chronological order, as a random note.

1.

It's been a while since Nicky's lived in the suburbs of an American city, but he can't say that he minds it. Like all small places, it's a tighter community, fewer neighbors than in the city, a place where one expects to be watched and watch others in return, for better or worse. They need to spend at least a month here, establish their identities as visiting professors from Europe who are teaching summer courses at the university in town.

Nicky doesn't mind the suburbs, and he likes that it's a plausible cover for the university to give him and Joe a house to share, but he hates that, because of the cover Booker's worked out for them, Nicky has to pretend to be from Naples.

They use one bedroom and leave the other one untouched. The office they use for work and to store extra munitions.

An elderly couple lives in the house across the street. On the left, their neighbors are middle aged parents whose children attend the university Nicky and Joe are teaching at, and on the right there’s a young couple with three small children. After an incident where Joe and Nicky mistakenly get their mail, which turns out to be crucial documents, they become friends.

The wife's name is Amy. She spends her days with the children, all three of whom are under the age of four. Nicky can see the exhaustion, the frayed look around her eyes. She's still recovering from the last birth, and her husband works long hours.

Nicky and Joe’s cover allows for a flexible schedule, and before Nicky knows it Joe starts dropping by the woman's house with freshly baked cookies and muffins most mornings. In the afternoon they often invite Amy to come over and bring the children. They play in the living room with either Nicky or Joe, while the other sits with Amy, talking in the kitchen that overlooks the living room.

They even buy a changing table for the guest bedroom. They tell Amy it came with the house.

"How long have you two been together?" Amy asks one day, sipping on her herbal tea, while a new children’s movie about a cartoon lion is playing on the TV. She’s sitting with Nicky, while Joe is on the living room floor, roaring loudly because he’s a lion and the children are a hyena, a meerkat, and a monkey at this particular moment. 

The question sets Nicky on edge. He's never good at remembering where the boundaries of propriety are - what sanctions, social and otherwise, are common in this time and place for two men who share a life. It's why he and Joe always try to maintain plausible deniability, when possible.

Of course, they're often not very good at it.

"It's been so long, I barely remember myself before him," he says, giving her a smile. "We were very young when we got together."

"Hmm," Amy smiles back, "I can see that. You know, I've seen this with other couples who got together in high school."

When Nicky offers nothing but a mildly confused expression, Amy says: "When you're a kid, it's too early to think about becoming a parent, and then a decade or two later you suddenly realize it's this big issue you never really planned for. It's different when people get together after college." She looks over at Joe, who's pretending to be injured from the bite of a poisonous snake who is also a two-year-old girl. "I know it's none of my business, but I think you two should seriously consider it. You'd be really great parents." She smiles back at Nicky. "I know there's no biological clock ticking, but trust me, having kids in your thirties is easier the earlier you start."

Nicky is... stunned. Frozen in place. He doesn't know what to say.

He's been alive for over 900 years and has never had someone, who only just now confirmed that he and Joe are a couple, immediately suggest that they have children. He's never had someone tell him, since his first death, that he really must become a father.

"It's... I'm..." he mumbles, trying to sort through his thoughts. How can he explain that he’s never wanted children of his own? And that Joe actually had them? How can he explain that neither one of them is capable of fathering a child since they're technically dead? Or tell her about the time he and Joe ran an orphanage for a decade, exploring as much of parenting as they're capable and interested in doing?

"I'm so sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to pry! It really is none of my business." He can see in her eyes that she's genuinely dismayed. She likes having them as friends, and doesn't want to lose them.

"It's fine," Nicky shakes his head. "I just... I don't think Joe and I have ever thought about it, like you said."

She relaxes, giving him a knowing smile. "See? I know the type. I know not everyone thinks so, but there are so many kids out there looking for a loving home, who cares if they grow up with two dads? It's becoming practically normal."

Is it? Nicky is still in shock. He's known men and women throughout his life who raised children in all sorts of families, of course. But so openly? As if it's just another bureaucratic procedure?

Something a neighbor who's known you for a few weeks would suggest as an obvious option?

After Amy leaves, Nicky tells Joe about their conversation, and Joe laughs, making Nicky laugh as well, and they put the incident out of their heads. A strange occurrence in a long string of strange occurrences that have happened to them over the years.

2.

Every once in a while, they go back to Genoa.

Joe knows to expect Nicky’s reaction - always mixed. Nicky loves it and hates it, is delighted and tortured by it. It's a reminder of how old he is, how much the world has changed, but it's a reminder they both need, on occasion. It grounds them, refocuses them. And for Nicky, it’s still as close as he can get to a dose of home.

They get an apartment in a house away from the harbor, inland but still by the river, in Sampierdarena. Everyone knows them by the time two weeks have passed. They get preferential treatment at the market, know all the kids who live in the nearby streets, Nicky is a personal friend of one of the more moderate local priests. They spend their time helping the elderly population in the neighborhood, carrying groceries, fixing things, explaining to the best of their knowledge how technology works. In return they get endless home-cooked food and stories about "old" Genoa that make Nicky's heart melt. 

Nonna Vittoria, as she's known around these parts, is a woman well into her sixties, if Joe's gauge of human ages can still be trusted.

She brings them several torte pasqualine one day, as thanks for their help while she was sick, and casually mentions that she really must ask them a question she's been meaning to ask for a while.

"Don't be upset with me," she begins. "You know I'm an old woman, I don't know about these things."

Joe braces himself, and he can see some tension creep into Nicky's face as well.

"Have either of you boys ever been with a woman?" she asks. "You know what I mean by 'been', right?"

Joe understands very well what she means, and tries to push down his amusement. Being here is important for Nicky.  
"Nonna Vittoria," Nicky begins, and Joe braces himself for the latest version of this speech, which they update every century or so. "Men like Joe and myself, we don't enjoy being with women, in the way you mean. We prefer to be with other men, specifically with each other. I'm sure it's--"  
She doesn't let him finish. "Never?" she says, more quietly, as if it's a secret. "You've never even tried it?"

Oh, Joe hasn't missed this line of questioning. He sighs.

"I ask because there's a nice girl I know," Nonna Vittoria says. "She lives near Voltaggio, my cousin's son's friend's niece. She has two children already, very easy births. I know a couple in Genoa who did it like that - couldn't have children, so they went abroad, paid someone, went through so many medical procedures. You wouldn't even need to do that! This girl, Alessandra, she's very responsible, and I'm sure you could come to an arrangement with her, financially."

It takes a moment for all the words to sink in, and then Joe is looking at Nicky, to confirm that they both heard the same thing.

Nonna Vittoria laughs. "Oh, don't give me those looks!" she says. "You boys are at the perfect age to have children. A little old, but two men together, things are always a bit different. You'd make such good parents, any child would be lucky to have you. Don't tell me you haven't even thought about it!" She looks at Nicky, specifically. "I'm sure your mother would be delighted if you had a little one, no matter what else she thinks about your choices. And I know just the way to do it, with as little fuss as possible," she finishes, victorious.

Joe looks over at Nicky again and realizes he's totally lost and overwhelmed at everything this woman just threw at him. Mentioning his mother? When Nicky went into the priesthood, something his family planned for him early on, it was understood he would never have children. That didn't change when he became a knight.

"It isn't..." Joe began. "Nonna Vittoria, it's not something we're interested in. Children. We've both decided that that isn't going to be part of our lives."

He can see, as soon as the words are out of his mouth, that it was the wrong answer.

Nonna Vittoria's expression changes to one of sadness and pity. "Don't say that, my boy. You don't know how important children are! You'll regret it later, when you wake up at fifty and realize you're too old to raise them now. You two have such a wonderful home, such a loving relationship! A home needs children in it, believe you me."

She went on, detailing the same arguments, giving Joe vague flashbacks to his own parents, until Nicky regained his composure enough to find some polite excuse to tell her they have to leave soon, but that they were very thankful to her for the food and that they would help her with the shopping again tomorrow.

"What was I supposed to say?" Joe says, dismayed, after she leaves.

"I don't know!" Nicky says, sitting down, head in his hands. “Anything but that, apparently!”

"She's going to bring it up again, isn’t she?" Joe sighs. "Do you think she'll tell her friends about her brilliant idea?"

"Undoubtedly," Nicky says.

3.

When they have ten weeks in Munich, Nicky spends days walking through the city, mapping it, breathing in the chilly air, getting used to the sound of German again. For whatever reason, he's always found it an easier language to master than any other currently popular in Europe. It's how he discovers the LesBiSchwules Jugendzentrum, the youth center run by the local gay community. At least, Nicky thinks that’s still the correct term.

When he tells Joe it leads to raised eyebrows and pointed coughing, which means Joe is expecting Nicky to get involved in spite of himself. Supposedly, once Nicky's taken an interest in one of these things, he never lets it go.

Mostly, Nicky is always curious about the experiences of young people. Things were so different when he was that age. He never had any questions about his "orientation". Half the boys he knew thought nothing of finding pleasure with each other, when their minders weren't looking. Nicky was one of the ones who preferred to remain pure. That wasn't true by the time he'd met Joe, but over the centuries so much had changed. The world, the people in it, and Nicky and Joe themselves. 

It takes a few weeks before Nicky is officially leading a 40 minute session, twice a week, on "religion and queerness". Mostly, it means giving a space for a few teenagers who either come from religious homes, or are struggling with religion themselves. Joe comes by, at the end of each session, and admirably restrains himself from making fun of Nicky for being so predictable. They usually go out for coffee before returning home.

At Nicky's final session the children make him a poster where each of them writes something meaningful. It has rainbows and a few stylized black hearts. Nicky accepts it just as Joe comes in, because of course. Joe will be even worse now, the next time this happens.

"Forgive me for saying it," says a man who comes up to Nicky when the children are leaving. He's the father of one of the boys, Elias, who's been struggling with his growing desire to become a priest. Elias is only attracted to women, but he was raised by two men, and spends a lot of his free time in queer spaces. "But you're so wonderful with the children. I hope you're considering having some of your own." His eyes move between Nicky and Joe.

He seems embarrassed about the breach in protocol almost as soon as he says it, taking a step back and thanking Nicky again for all his work with the kids.

But before they say goodbye, it's as if the man regains his courage. "I can tell you, for my husband and me, it wasn't an easy decision. Our generation, you know," he looks at Nicky and Joe conspiratorially, as if they're the same age. "It was different. We didn't really think of it as an option, when we were growing up. But it's been the most amazing decision we ever made. Don't be afraid of taking the plunge."

This time it's Joe who's speechless. He stares at the man as if he's suddenly forgotten all his German.

"Thank you," Nicky says, fighting back a smile. "It's very kind of you to share that. We're certainly... considering our options."

"Of course," the man says, back to being mildly embarrassed. "I hope we see you again some day."

Unlikely, Nicky thinks.

Then he turns to Joe and takes in his full expression and actually does laugh, before dragging him off to a cafe filled mostly with tourists, near the Viktualienmarkt.

"Is this... going to keep happening?" Joe says, looking dismayed as he sips his hot chocolate. "We're going to get this from gay men as well now?" He shook his head.

"I think he might identify as bisexual," Nicky says, blowing on his hot coffee. "If that makes any difference."

"It doesn't!" Joe says, grumpy. "Who do these people think they are?"

"I don't know, my love," Nicky says, tasting his coffee. "But I do know the one you brew at home tastes better than this."

4.

The difficult thing about "going home", for Joe, is that although he grew up in al-Quds, all the city makes him think about now is the experience of finding out, much too late, that almost everyone he loves has been murdered. They visit it, of course, on occasion, but it's a hard, thorny homecoming. Instead, he feels more at peace in the places he saw rarely growing up, but had always heard so much about.

His family originated in Tunis, but his great-grandfather didn't make his fortune until he came to Algiers. Once his modest trading empire started to grow, it was convenient to have relatives spread out, family connections in every major port. Joe's branch hadn’t settled in al-Quds until his father’s generation.

After they meet Nile, and suddenly a thousand years of habits and stories and jokes have to be introduced to a new member of the team, Nicky tells her, "If you're anywhere in the Maghreb, and you don't know where Joe is, you'll probably find him at a local market, making friends with the sellers." 

He hates to admit it, but Nicky is mostly correct. When they have a few weeks in Marrakech - a city Joe still thinks of as “new”, coming into its own after his first death - to do some scouting and investigate a businessman who might be involved in shady arms dealing, Joe uses his downtime to visit his favorite stall at the local spice market. 

He’s visited this stall every time he's in the city, for the past 60 years or so. The man he'd originally befriended had left the stall to his son, and despite the years not quite adding up with Joe's youthful appearance, the son - Mehdi - has never asked questions. Perhaps he assumes Joe is the son of Youssef, who'd been a friend of his father, and not the same man.

When Mehdi's father was young, Joe had helped the family solve a problem at the market, the details of which Joe now barely remembers. But as a result, he'd always been treated like a long lost relative, on his rare return visits.

This time, since he has weeks, he comes to see Mehdi more often. They sit together, after the midday call to prayer, when the market is relatively quiet and Mehdi takes a break, leaving one of his sons to run the stall, and drink freshly brewed tea.

Mehdi always begins by asking Joe about his extended family, his business, his travels. He doesn’t insist on the details, respecting Joe’s occasionally vague answers. Soon, they move on to topics Joe prefers - Mehdi’s life, his family, the latest happenings in the city. 

"He's very handsome, your Italian," Mehdi says, after finishing a story about his third granddaughter, recently born, and how proud he is that she has his eyes.

Joe licks his lips and takes another sip of the rich, delicious tea. Sometimes Nicky comes to find him here. He knows where Joe's favorite spots are, in every city they visit. There's no point denying the implication in Mehdi’s words. He wouldn’t bring something like this up to insult Joe, or embarrass him.

"He is," Joe agrees.

"Does he travel with you?" Mehdi asks. "I know you live all over, I remember my father telling me it was like that, for your family business. Is he part of that?"

"Oh yes," Joe smiles. "We've been together for... a long time. I bring him with me everywhere I go."

Mehdi nods again, and sips his tea before saying: "Have you thought about having children?"

The words take a moment to register, and then Joe is utterly blank, no responses coming to his mind whatsoever.

"I only ask," Medhi says, leaning closer, as if trying to reassure Joe, "because it's important for a man to have children. Let me tell you, as a man twice your age, you never know how wonderful children can be until they start having their own children. It's an indescribable feeling, having a large family around you, as you get older."

"It's... I..." Joe says, his brain going over a myriad different responses. Part of him is yelling at himself for being caught unprepared again, and a different part is feverishly sorting between answers that are true, answers that are acceptable, and answers that would stop this conversation as soon as possible and allow them to get back to peacefully drinking their tea together and talking about other things.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Mehdi smiles. “But since your father, may God show him mercy, is no longer with us, I feel like I shouldn’t waste the opportunity to tell you how much it will please your family, I’m sure, if you become a father.”

Joe could say – you’re right, children are important, that's why I got married and had several of them! They survived the slaughter in al-Quds almost a thousand years ago, God be praised, and my resourceful, wonderful wife, whose wits and compassion and love were wasted on me, took them to Algiers, when she thought I was dead, to be raised by my extended family.

Or, he could say - I wanted children, and I had them, and I had to let them go. And Nicolo never wanted children, and never had them. And dead things cannot produce living things, and neither one of us is sorry about that. We fill our lives with meaning by using each day to help others, and that is more than enough. 

Or, maybe it should be - I did my duty by my family, I took a woman as my wife and had children to continue our line and I provided for them, and then Nicolo killed me, and I died, and that means I'm free of my debt.

"I only say this," Mehdi says, suddenly apologetic, Joe’s awkward silence clearly having an effect. "Because my second daughter's husband works in one of those technology companies, and one of his coworkers... he's a very nice boy. Very polite, and so well spoken. Born abroad, doesn't have much family here. Pleasure to have over for dinner – he was just at our house for iftar. I used to think it was strange, for a man to be... that way. But this boy... he's young, but I hope he gets a chance to have children some day, without sacrificing his happiness. You," he gestures at Joe, "you already have your Italian. And you live in so many countries, surely that sort of thing is acceptable in some of them."

Joe is still speechless, but he must talk. He has to answer, somehow, or else get up and leave and never come back here again.

"I appreciate your concern," Joe says, with as much kindness as he can. He thinks about the boy who comes to Mehdi's house, how he wants to encourage as much love and acceptance as he can for him, how he mustn't let his temper at being asked this question repeatedly show. "You're right, it is important to have children, my father thought so too. Nicky and I..." He smiles at Mehdi, shaking his head. "We travel a lot. It would be hard on a child." 

"Still,” Medhi says. “Accommodations could be made. No one said raising kids was easy!" He seems delighted to try and convince Joe. 

Clearly, Joe’s excuse was a mistake. 

Joe sips more of his tea, and listens to Mehdi tell more stories of raising his children, with occasional educational asides for Joe's benefit, and thinks about how many more times he can come here before Mehdi's son takes over the stall, and he'll have to reinvent himself again or risk exposure.

5.

“Wow, so that just happened,” Nile says, as they’re all watching a chopper take off, containing relieved parents who are hugging their formerly kidnapped and now liberated children. “That little girl really gave you a whole speech about how your kids must be so lucky to have such strong dads who would never let them get hurt.”

Andy turns away from the chopper before she starts laughing. 

"It's not that funny!" Joe says, running a hand over his face. "It’s been happening more and more lately."

"What?" Nile says, grinning. "People assuming a nice married couple like you probably has kids? I wouldn't be surprised at all."

"Is that really true?" Andy squints at them. 

"Constantly," Nicky sighs. "Whenever we stop somewhere long enough now, make connections with the locals, it eventually comes up."

"Huh," Andy says, considering.

"Oh my god," Nile says. "You never got it, did you?" She's looking at Andy in awe. "Thousands of years, and you probably never got the kids question a single time from a random stranger, right? I swear to god!"

Nicky can't tell if she's amazed or annoyed.

"What are you supposed to say, Nile?" Joe asks, pleading with their 21st century expert. "We've never had to have prepared answers for this before. What's the right way to deflect, when people ask us, in the future?"

“How about,” Andy says. “You hate getting up early on weekends?”

Nicky rolls his eyes while Joe groans out “Boss…” the way gladiators would ask for mercy at the end of a fight.

“Or,” Andy says. “You have an extreme aversion to other people’s excrement?” 

"From what my older cousins told me,” Nile says, before Andy can go on. “Nothing will work. Although, I guess it's easier for you because it's not like people can follow up. Maybe... Come up with some scenario. You're waiting for the surrogacy to get approved or something. Say you're in the middle of the process. These things take time."

Nicky looks at Joe and both of them silently start spinning this tale in their heads. They'll have to ask Copley for help in researching something that sounds plausible.

"Although," Nile says, considering. "It might... lead people to try to help? I've heard of stuff like that. Like, they might try to help you with the bureaucracy, ask a billion questions. Stuff like that."

"Nile..." Nicky whines.

"Look, the answer is you're doomed forever, the end," Nile says. "Blame gay marriage or gay science or something."

Nicky sighs. Joe shakes his head.

"There has to be a way to make it stop," Joe says, as they leave the roof of the building, going downstairs for a post-mission coffee. "There has to be. Every question in the universe has at least one correct answer."

"Good luck figuring that one out," Nile says, as Andy gives Nicky a fortifying pat on the shoulder, as they head into the city.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are ♥!
> 
> Joe's backstory in this fic is expanded in a fic I wrote about Joe and Booker having Conversations: [From one father to another](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559551). 
> 
> If you want to read another fic by me about Nicky and Joe and ~queer feels~, there's this one about [5 times Nicky and Joe went to a gay bar, and one time they didn't](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113135).


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